


Simple Gifts

by Jac_Danvers



Category: Lost
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jac_Danvers/pseuds/Jac_Danvers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a gift, getting to leave the island. Whether it changes him for the better? The jury is still out on that one. Miles's thoughts as the Ajiira flight leaves the island during "The End."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Lost still isn't mine, though I do love it so. I think the song is in the public domain, but just in case "Simple Gifts" is a Shaker song written by Elder Joseph Brackett, and it will forever, in my opinion, be one of the most beautiful melodies ever written.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2wpmczr)

_When truth and simplicity is gained_

_To bow and to bend, we shan't be ashamed…_

There's a fear coursing through him with every shake of the plane, enough to send him into a mild tizzy at the slightest tilt as they change directions. The trembling of the earth below them during takeoff and its marked stillness now that they are up in the air taunts him; a stark reminder that a few moments longer and they would be dead. He hadn't even been in the crash that started it all, and he still feels that at any minute, Lapidus might lose control and they'll all be sunk.

Literally.

They should be using this time to come up a plan. It's what Jack or Locke would have done if they were here. But Locke's long dead, and if the soft, comforting words Claire spoke briefly to Kate were any indication, Jack didn't stay behind on the island because he had more work to do as the apparent heir to Jacob. And that’s as far as he was going to allow his mind to go down that train of thought, because if Jack, of all people, couldn't survive this mess, it makes him question just how the hell he did.

Everyone is silent, understandably so, considering what they've just experienced. But there's no way they can just land at LAX, in a plane that's been missing for two weeks, that took off full of people and is arriving with only six.

Yeah, that one isn't going to fly.

Not to mention that their all too brief passenger manifest will never fall in the category of "World's Most Upstanding Citizens."

A murderer. Two con men, if he counts himself. An unwed slightly-crazed jungle mother. A drunk. A man who should have been dead at least one hundred and twenty years.

Six people entirely ignored by the bulk of society as freaks and outcasts and dregs. And it doesn't matter that he stepped up and defended the Dharma residents, or that Jim had jumped off the helicopter so Kate and the others could have a chance at rescue, or that Lapidus had flown a plane off an island in the middle of the freekin’ unleashing of Hell.

Because no one but them would ever know.

How many people had crashed on the island, lived on the island, sailed to the island? The odds had never been in his favor to survive. He's grateful, grateful as hell, that he's still alive and in one piece. But he knows damned well that it should be Jin and Sun sitting in his spot on the plane. Hugo, Desmond, Dan, and Charlotte- nice people, a little flawed and a little odd, who would go back and have some sort of redeeming life.

They circle one last time over the island. He's sad at the thought, but he tells himself he's thinking of the good times, back during the Dharma days, when the island was filled with promiscuous hippie chicks. He sees Claire hide her head in Kate's shoulder, unable to watch. There are tears in her eyes too, like she feels almost the same sadness that they're leaving.

It's when he realizes he's not alone. Kate's nearly bawling, probably over Jack. Jim, for Jules. Even Alpert, though he's not quite sure why, considering the guy's been stuck on the hunk of rock for the last century. He's not going to get up to check Lapidus. It's more for his own sanity. He's hoping the pilot isn't having this same burst of emotion that has apparently taken over the cabin. Otherwise, they'll be right back in harm's way.

He's not crying. Eyes are watery, but he's totally not crying. He does, though, feel something tugging at him. The sensation that it's all going to change, and not just because he has eight million in diamonds sitting in his pocket.

They're  _alive._ Of everyone who came before and after, they're alive, and they are going to have a second chance. And Dan and Charlotte, Jules and Jin, and all the others he never got to know, they would want them to live.

Even if it means getting a real job, one that doesn't involve exploiting money from grieving families. And even if it means using the diamond money to start some sort of college fund for "Inadvertent Victims of Craphole Island." Someone has to make sure Aaron, and Jin's little girl, and Juliet's nephew turn out alright. And if everyone else is too emotionally distraught to do it, he could step up.

If he really has to.

Even an evil mystery island can't change the most deeply imbued habits.

Alright, maybe he'll keep some of the money for himself. But not just for himself. Someone's going to have to look out for Alpert now that he's out in the real world and aging. Consider it his stipend for making sure the old guy doesn't go crazy with the Rogaine.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lapidus's relieved voice emerges over the speakers above the seats, interrupting his thoughts. "Looks like smooth flying from here on out. We're on a course to Micronesia. Got some friends there that owe me a favor or two. We can work out the details later, but it looks like it's all over. ETA four hours, over and out."

Silence reigns again, and Claire's head lifts from its hiding place on Kate's shoulder. She's still in tears, but she smiles back at him, a grin that brings home Lapidus words: It's all over. A grin that reminds him of the girl he met three years ago, the girl she'll be when she gets home to her son.

Yup, if you ignored that twig that was still sticking out of her hair, she was definitely still hot.

And that, perhaps, was the simplest gift of all.

 


End file.
